


My Virtues Uncounted

by honeydewdyke



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Talon-Shimada Alliance, background genji/baptiste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-01-23 08:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18545932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeydewdyke/pseuds/honeydewdyke
Summary: A Talon-Shimada alliance leads to Akande being assigned as a bodyguard to the Shimada heir. Making sure Hanzo stays alive is easy enough, but handling their feelings is a little harder.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be 1k words max, im sorry, i dont know what happened?? im out of practice with writing so this took longer than it should have (sorry!), and i'm absolute shit at writing plot, but i wanted to write something for my mutual uwu
> 
> sorry the summary is shit and sorry i keep apologising for things
> 
> there are panic attacks in this fic. each chapter has a warning, and tells you where to stop reading if you want to avoid it. i've based it partially on how i experience my panic attacks but i've removed some things that i experience like immobility just to make it easier for me to write
> 
> (title is from hozier's shrike. i am not nearly creative enough to come up with anything poetic, in case you couldnt tell by my pathetic attempt at a summary)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: panic attack. if you want to skip it, stop reading from ("Thank you," Hanzo said, bowing briefly) and start from ("What are you doing here?")

“I do not need a bodyguard,” Hanzo was arguing. “You know I am fully capable of taking care of myself, you made sure I was!”

Sojiro sighed, not looking up from the document he was reading. “It’s just an extra precaution, not a personal attack on your skills, Hanzo.”

“Father, please. Having a babysitter will just slow me down-”

“I chose one of the best, he will have no problem keeping up with you.”

“It will make the Shimada family look weak and incapabl-”

“Most of the other families have personal bodyguards, it’s a norm.”

“But I do not-”

“Hanzo,” Sojiro said sharply, finally putting down the document to stare at his son sternly. “You will have a bodyguard until we have determined that there is no imminent threat. This is not a discussion.”

Hanzo fought back a glare, staring impassively at the wall instead as he willed his blood to cool.

“I know the situation is not ideal,” Sojiro said in a gentler tone. Hanzo resisted the urge to snort - ‘not ideal’ was one way of putting it. “But I cannot lose you like I lost my mother.”

And so the matter was settled. Both Hanzo and Genji were to have bodyguards that would follow their every step. Hanzo sighed as he left his father’s study - Genji wasn’t going to be happy about this.

* * *

“What do you mean, personal bodyguards?” Genji yelled.

“Calm down, brother,” Hanzo said, but the sound of porcelain shattering swallowed his words. Genji threw a second plate across the room, dangerously close to where Hanzo was standing.

“What are they going to do next? Huh? Have someone wipe my ass for me in case I hurt my wrist?”

Was this how his father felt when Hanzo refused the bodyguards earlier? Hanzo felt a sudden, profound sympathy for his father. The assassination of his elderly mother must have been hard enough to deal with, and his two sons throwing tantrums surely did not make that any easier.

“It is only temporary. Just until they figure out what happened,” Hanzo said, but his brother was not appeased. Another plate hit the floor, and its shattered pieces joined the remains of the other plates. “Why do you have so many plates in your room?”

“Mind your business, brother,” Genji snapped. “Ugh. This sucks.”

Hanzo watched Genji throw himself onto his bed, burying his face into the pillow. As childish as he was acting, Hanzo knew how he felt. It was difficult enough to find privacy in their life, and personal bodyguards would only take away what little they had. That, and Hanzo genuinely wasn’t sure if Genji would survive more than a week without a one night stand.

“It does suck,” Hanzo agreed. “But we have to do this for father.”

Genji didn’t respond. For a while, the only sounds in the room were the distant beat of whatever music Genji had been listening to on his phone, just barely audible through his earphones. When his brother said nothing, Hanzo left.

It was an unfortunate situation, but they would make do. They always did.

* * *

It was the first time Hanzo had met the Talon leaders face to face, and frankly, he hadn’t expected them to be so… attractive. He had assumed they would all be old, balding white men, not… this. The red-haired white woman and the black man with two white stripes across his face were particularly attractive. He wondered where Talon found people with both undeniable competence and good looks, whereas Hanzo was always stuck with mediocrity in both talents and appearance. Hanzo took his seat at the rounded table next to his father, pushing away his surprise.

“Moira O’Deorain. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Master Shimada,” one woman said. “We have heard much about you.”

“Thank you, Miss O’Deorain. It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

“Let’s get started,” a man said curtly, his face masked by a strange skull mask. “Mister Shimada, we know who killed your mother.”

To a foreign eye, it would appear that Sojiro remained impassive, but Hanzo could see his pinky finger twitch under the table. “Is that so?”

“I understand that you suspected a rival family, but we considered it necessary to investigate your allies too. It was one of your household staff.”

The idea was unthinkable. Household staff were thoroughly screened, both before hiring and continuously throughout their employment. To think that someone had murdered his grandmother and then washed their dishes the next morning… Hanzo felt indescribable anger.

“Which one?” Sojiro asked, looking far more collected than Hanzo felt.

“A man named Tomoko Hayashi. At first, we thought he was acting alone, but he appears to be getting his orders elsewhere.”

Everyone looked so… calm. As if this was just another political matter. He could not see the face of the man talking, but everyone else looked impassive. The omnic next to the masked man, Miss O’Deorain, the two men sitting beside her and even his father all looked blank. Hanzo thought of his grandmother, her smile, her warm wrinkled hands and the yakitori she used to make.

“If you will excuse me,” Hanzo said, his voice managing to be steady despite feeling close to fainting. “May I use your restroom?”

The skull masked man nodded. “Through that door, second on the left.”

“Thank you,” Hanzo said, bowing briefly before leaving the meeting room as quickly as he could without belying his sudden nausea.

The guards standing outside the door nodded at him but he ignored them, making his way to the restroom with brisk steps. He wondered if they could tell he wasn’t as composed as he was pretending to be. God, he couldn’t breathe, he felt like there was a fist wrapped around his throat, he could feel his heart beating impossibly loud and he felt like he was going to die, oh god was he dying, his chest hurt and the ground was refusing to stay still and he was dying, he was sure of it, he was dying, he was dying, he was-

“Hey, I need you to put your hands down.”

Where was that voice coming from? Hanzo glanced around wildly and realised he was in the restroom, and one of the men from the meeting was stood in front of him. When had he gotten there?

“I’m going to take your hands, okay?”

Hanzo realised belatedly that he was clawing at his own throat. The man took both of his hands into his own, pulling them away from his throat. The short, jagged breaths he took made his chest hurt, like broken pieces of porcelain were stuck in his airways.

“Can you take a deep breath in?”

He couldn’t. He wanted to but he couldn’t, he couldn’t breathe, there wasn’t enough air, he couldn’t brea-

“Hold your breath for a moment.”

Hold his breath? He couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs and this man wanted him to stop breathing completely? Hanzo could feel his fingers itching to dig into his neck again, but the man’s grip was stronger than his, and he felt far too dizzy to fight him.

“Hold your breath, just for two seconds.”

Hanzo breathed in a shallow breath and held it for two beats. When he opened his mouth again, he felt his breathing slow into a more natural pattern, and the room didn’t feel like it was spinning anymore.

“What are you doing here?” Hanzo asked, perhaps more brusquely than he should have. The man did not seem to take offence at his tone and merely smiled.

“Ah, I forgot you have not been told yet. I will be your new bodyguard.”

Hanzo did not, generally speaking, support mindless murder, but he wondered if it was time to rethink his stance on that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw panic attack again. if you want to skip, stop reading from (There was a knock at his door) to ("It's not a problem")
> 
> do i know what im doing? no. :)

The ride back to the Shimada Castle was long and silent. Sojiro said nothing, impassively staring out of the window. Hanzo tried to do the same, but the new bodyguard did not appear willing to give Hanzo his space.

“Would you rather I call you Master Shimada or Hanzo?”

“I have no preference.”

A few blissful minutes of silence passed before the bodyguard spoke again.

“Your father mentioned that you are skilled in fighting. Which styles do you fight in, if I may ask?”

Hanzo sighed. “What is your name?”

“Akande Ogundimu,” the man said. His name sounded almost poetic.

“Mr. Ogundimu, we can discuss these matters later.”

“I would prefer if you called me Akande,” the man said, a smile dancing on his lips.

“...Perhaps.” It would not do to get attached to Ogundimu, no matter how objectively attractive he was. It was bad enough that the man had seen one of Hanzo’s rare panic attacks - getting closer to him would only make Hanzo appear more vulnerable.

‘Later’ for their discussions never came. As soon as they reached the castle, Hanzo thanked the driver and made his way to his room. Ogundimu seemed to take the hint and dropped his attempts at conversations, but Hanzo would still find him occasionally directing a smile towards him. Hanzo ignored it. Ogundimu was attractive, certainly, and his silky voice made Hanzo… feel things, but the circumstances were simply impractical. Hanzo was the heir to a legacy most couldn’t imagine. There was simply no time for romantic pursuits.

Still… there was a comfort to be found in such fantasies. Whether birth was entirely luck or the careful calculations of a greater power, the fact remained that Hanzo could have easily have been born into any family, of any ethnicity, and of any class. He wondered what his life would have been like if he was a person before he was an heir. Would he date? Would he have kissed people behind the bleachers in school? Would he have made friends knowing that they liked him for him, not for his money or his influence? Would he have had the opportunity to pursue Ogundimu without worry? In the peace of his own room, lying on his bed with nothing to occupy him, it was far too easy to succumb to ‘what if’s.

“Brother!” an unfortunately familiar voice called from down the hallway.

Perhaps it was too much to hope for more than two minutes of peace.

“What do you want, Genji?” Hanzo asked, praying that his brother would leave soon.

“Have you seen my eyeshadow palette? I think I might have left it in your room,” Genji said, sounding harried. The door slammed open, and Hanzo turned to reprimand Genji for his rough treatment. The sight of his outfit quickly made him swallow his words. Genji wore a striped shirt under a red tailcoat, coupled with an indecently short skirt and ripped fishnets. And heels. When had he even learnt to walk in heels that high?  

“What in the hell are you wearing?” Hanzo asked. “How is that an appropriate outfit for a Tuesday evening? No, wait, how is that an appropriate outfit ever?”

Genji shot him a dirty look. “It’s not just a Tuesday evening, it’s _Halloween_. I’m going to a party.”

“In that?” Hanzo snorted, lying back down again. “You look like a clown.”

“I’m a ringmaster,” Genji said in mock-affront. “But a slutty one. Thus the miniskirt and fishnets.”

“Please stop talking.”

“I’ll stop talking if you let me look for my eyeshadow palette?” Genji offered, sounding hopeful.

 _“Fine,”_ Hanzo bit through gritted teeth. “Hurry up.”

“Thank you, brother!” Genji chirped, making his way into the room and immediately shuffling the books on Hanzo’s desk. They had an organised system but it didn’t seem like Genji cared.

“Is your bodyguard aware that you are leaving?”

Genji’s hands stilled for a revealing moment. “Oh. Yeah, I told him earlier and he said it’s okay as long as he comes too.”

Hanzo sighed. “You are lying.”

“No, I’m not,” Genji refuted immediately. “Okay, yes I am, but don’t tell Father, okay? I want to have one last night out with my friends before I’m locked in with a babysitter, and it’s Halloween.”

It was unlikely that Genji would stop sneaking out after tonight, but Hanzo was simply too tired to care about any of his escapades. He snorted again and turned to face the wall, leaving his brother to go through his shelves in search of his eyeshadow palette.

“Hey, do you want to come?” Genji asked. “A party might get that stick out of your ass.”

“No thank you. I would rather not spend a Tuesday evening in a revealing outfit surrounded by drunk people.”

“Your loss!” Genji chirped, leaving the room.

Hanzo sighed, partly out of relief and partly from frustration. As much as he reprimanded Genji for his constant outings with friends, he felt somewhat jealous that he got to experience so much freedom. As the oldest, most of the responsibility fell upon Hanzo’s shoulders, so that even if he wished to go to parties, he would never have the opportunity to. Genji, on the other hand, was at a different party every week, always making new friends each time. He never seemed worried that people befriended him only for his money and influence - or he never showed it, at least.

His nickname was appropriate then - the dear little sparrow, a free bird that could fly wherever it wished. If Genji was a sparrow, Hanzo was a flightless bird - a penguin, perhaps, or an emu. The thought was ludicrous enough that Hanzo chuckled to himself for a moment. Such nonsensical thoughts were surely a sign that he should go to sleep.

* * *

The mission was unlike any other Akande had completed. It was relatively slow-paced, although that wasn’t unusual. But it was strangely silent too. Reaper often paired him off with Sombra, so that he could protect her and fight off enemies while she did whatever it was she did. As such, he had grown used to her constant nattering and borderline mean jabs.

Hanzo, despite being far from the type to talk as much as Sombra, was equally borderline mean. It didn’t help that he was pretty enough to get away with it.

Akande sighed. It was inconvenient to have such an attractive client, with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue. Akande couldn’t act on his attraction without endangering his mission and possibly putting the Shimada family in danger, but still… it didn’t hurt to think of Hanzo’s soft, pink lips and the way his hair splayed out across his shoulders.

There was a sound coming from the room next door. Akande stopped shuffling through his suitcase, listening intently. It sounded like… sniffling? The room next door was Hanzo’s, and Akande felt his heart break a little at the thought of the young heir crying alone at night.

Still, it wasn’t his place to intervene. Hanzo had made it clear that he didn’t expect a chummy relationship, and Akande would respect that. Logically, he knew he should give the man his space, but it was difficult to focus on finding his turtleneck.

There was a knock at his door. Akande checked that his gun was still on his hip before calling, “Come in.”

The door swung open to reveal Hanzo, shaking and looking bewildered.

“I-” he said, his voice unsteady. “H-Help, pl-please.”

Akande stood up quickly, guiding Hanzo to sit on his bed.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. Think about your breathing and nothing else.”

Hanzo began to absentmindedly scratch his forearms. There weren’t any marks from his earlier panic attack, but with his nails scraping harder and harder at his arms now, it looked like that was about to change.

“I’m going to take your hands, okay?” Akande said firmly, hoping the man could hear him. Hanzo didn’t respond, but he offered little resistance when Akande wrapped his hand around the man’s wrists and pulled them away. His breath was becoming more uneven, and Akande found himself experiencing a deep and unsettling helplessness he was unaccustomed to.

“P-please,” Hanzo said again, and his shaking voice seemed to pierce Akande in the chest like a knife.

“You’re okay, you’re safe, you don’t have to think about anything,” Akande said slowly, praying internally that Hanzo was finding some modicum of comfort in his words. “Hold your breath for three seconds, okay?”

“Can’t,” Hanzo gasped. He began to struggle, trying clearly to escape Akande’s firm grip on his wrists. “I can’t, I can’t, I c- can’t, I can’t-”

“You can,” Akande said. “Hold your breath for three seconds. Breathe in and just hold it.”

Hanzo managed to do it this time, holding his breath for a short moment before releasing it. His breathing was more even now, but his eyes still flickered frantically across the room as he continued to mutter, almost inaudible, a constant mantra of 'I can't's.

"Good," Akande praised. Hanzo's eyes met his for a brief second, before continuing to search the room as though looking for a monster that wasn't there. "Okay, one more time. Hold it for three seconds."

Hanzo did so, and then again without Akande's instruction. He seemed to be calming down, his shaking less severe and his gaze more steady. Akande let go of his wrist, hoping the man wouldn't begin to scratch himself again.

"Tha-" Hanzo began, his voice dry and scratchy. He cleared his throat, trying again. "Thank you."

"It's not a problem," Akande reassured him gently. Hanzo was refusing to look at him, staring steadfastly at the wall. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No," Hanzo said, his curt tone such a juxtaposition to his voice a few moments ago that Akande almost startled. "You have done enough. I shall return to my room. Thank you for your help, and I would appreciate that you keep this between us."

“Okay,” Akande said, unable to quash the disappointment that welled in his chest. He hadn’t expected Hanzo to transform into a new, more amiable man, but he had hoped perhaps he would stay for a moment or two. “But feel free to let me know if I can help you with anything. I truly don’t mind.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Ogundimu,” Hanzo said simply, leaving the room without another word.

Akande lay down on his bed, still warm from where Hanzo had sat. The room felt strangely empty without the heir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hanzo warms up to akande, i promise! he's just a prickly bastard with a shitload of boundaries
> 
> i used to be able to write 10k in two days, and its taken me more than a month just to write this. i'm so out of practice akgfkjfg but it feels super nice to be writing again, even if i can tell that the quality has dropped oop


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little more genji, and some very mild very background genji/baptiste. i dont actually ship them but it was convenient for this fic and i feel like they'd have a fun dynamic

The humiliation of having his bodyguard witness his panic attack was bad enough, but the memory of Ogundimu helping him through was enough to make Hanzo seriously consider hiding in his room all day. But doing so felt as undignified as last night, so Hanzo reluctantly made his way to the kitchen for breakfast, hoping that Ogundimu was still in his own room.

“Good morning, Hanzo,” Ogundimu said as he entered the kitchen. “There is okayu for breakfast, if you would like some.”

The universe did not grant Hanzo much luck in his life, and it appeared it would not start now.

“Thank you, Mr. Ogundimu,” Hanzo said politely, taking a seat at the table. Genji was almost definitely hungover, and his father was most likely in his study - it appeared breakfast would just be him and Ogundimu. Hanzo cursed the universe.

They ate in silence for the most part. Ogundimu seemed to understand that Hanzo did not wish to talk about last night’s incident, thankfully, and only briefly inquired about Hanzo’s wellbeing before quietly making his way through his own breakfast.

“What will you be doing today?” Ogundimu asked, as a servant collected their plates.

“I wish to visit the dojo,” Hanzo replied, meeting Ogundimu’s gaze. The man had the same gentle smile he had worn last night, and it was embarrassingly attractive. Hanzo impatiently pushed away whatever emotion was fluttering in his chest - it didn’t matter that Ogundimu was conventionally attractive, he was still a stranger who would most likely attempt to take advantage of him.

“Lead the way,” Ogundimu said.

* * *

Hanzo's practice was grueling, as it always was. Training offered Hanzo an opportunity to dispel the burden of day-to-day life, and thrashing a dummy into a pulp until sweat poured from his forehead was a welcome distraction from the handsome bodyguard standing just a few feet away, watching wordlessly.

Hanzo hated him. It wasn't Ogundimu's fault, of course - the man couldn't control how he looked, and if he was absurdly attractive then it was no fault of his. That did not make it any less frustrating for Hanzo, however, who found his dreams riddled with dark skin and gentle smiles last night.

He turned to Ogundimu. "Do you fight?"

Ogundimu cocked his head. "It would be strange if I did not, yes? It is important for my career."

“What styles do you use?” Hanzo asked. He wondered if he could lure Ogundimu into a training spar - he was curious to see how competent the man that Sojiro called ‘the best’ truly was.

“Dambe and Gidigbo, mostly,” Ogundimu answered. “Although I was very proficient in wrestling too.”

Hanzo smiled. “Perhaps you would like to join me on the mat?”

Ogundimu raised an eyebrow. “I’m not exactly dressed for sparring,” he said, gesturing at his suit. Hanzo waved his concerns away.

“There are spare clothes in the other room, if you want to change.” Akande still did not look convinced. “Unless you are afraid to lose?” Hanzo added, smiling. Such lines always worked on Genji, who was competitive to a fault, but Ogundimu simply laughed.

“Perhaps another time, Hanzo.”

“Surely a quick tussle can’t hurt?” another voice said. Hanzo turned to see his father watching them with an uncomfortably knowing smile. It was unlikely that Sojiro was aware of something that Hanzo was not - his father’s smiles always looked suggestive - but Hanzo felt his cheeks flush nonetheless.

“Sojiro,” Ogundimu called, a pleasant smile resting on his face. “So kind of you to emerge from your office. I would have ordered a search party if I didn’t fear they would get lost in your piles of paperwork.”

Sojiro laughed. “I promise my office isn’t always that disorganised,” he said, much to Ogundimu’s amusement. “Although I _could_ use a search party for a couple of my books.”

“I eagerly await the day you learn that chairs were made for humans and not stacks of papers,” Ogundimu teased.

Hanzo watched their exchange with a growing frown. His father was never one to grow too close to associates, always aware that their relationships were purely professional, and he had not seen Sojiro laugh so genuinely around even their oldest business partners.

“Ah but Hanzo,” Sojiro said, startling his son out of his reverie, “You ought to be more careful provoking Akande. He was beating grown men at the age of ten!”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Sojiro,” Ogundimu chuckled. “But I have been doing martial arts since I was young, yes. Although I’ve heard the same about you, Hanzo.”

“I preferred archery over close range combat,” Hanzo admitted, “But I am interested to see your talents.”

“Then it is settled!” Sojiro said, clapping his hands together. “Akande, there is spare clothing in that room, if you wish.”

As Ogundimu left to change his outfit, Hanzo turned to his father with an inquisitive look.

“I used to do a lot of business with Akande’s family in Nigeria,” Sojiro explained. “I watched Akande grow up, and I even taught him some of my own tricks! He’s a formidable opponent, to say the least.”

Hanzo huffed, but did not respond. He wasn’t surprised that Ogundimu was competent, but he was now regretting insisting on a match with him. Having two panic attacks in front of a man and then getting beaten on the mat would wound his pride, surely, but it was too late to back out now. Hanzo glanced at his father, who had taken a seat near the mat and was looking far too thrilled to be there. Failure was not an option.

And so they sparred. Hanzo expected Ogundimu to rely on strength instead of speed due to his bulk, but for a man his size he was quick on his feet. He dodged Hanzo’s attacks with an easy expertise as he leapt across the mat. Frustrated, Hanzo switched to defence - if he could goad Ogundimu into attacking, he would eventually tire himself and his defence would weaken.

Ogundimu took the opportunity, throwing a swift punch at Hanzo, who dodged it easily. A quick succession of punches and kicks followed, none of which touched Hanzo. Ogundimu attempted to feign a left hook, but Hanzo, noticing that it was significantly weaker than his previous punches, saw through him. He dodged the punch that came quickly from the right, and ducked to avoid the leg that swung up.

They danced around each other, Ogundimu’s punches growing in intensity with every second that passed. Sweat beaded on Hanzo’s forehead and back, and Ogundimu was breathing heavily as he watched Hanzo with a careful intensity. At the beginning of the fight, Ogundimu had been continuously moving to make landing a hit more challenging for Hanzo, but he seemed to lack some of that energy now. It was the perfect chance for Hanzo to strike.

Hanzo threw a quick series of punches and a powerful roundhouse kick aimed at Ogundimu’s thigh. Ogundimu raised his leg, his knee level with Hanzo’s shin, and blocked the kick, but could not defend himself against the punch that followed. As Hanzo aimed another roundhouse kick, Ogundimu ducked and spun his leg out, knocking Hanzo onto his back. Before Hanzo could collected himself, Ogundimu pushed him back onto the floor in a clear victory.

“Well done, both of you,” Sojiro called, sounding delighted. “That was the most entertaining fight I’ve seen in a long while!”

Hanzo opened his mouth but couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Ogundimu’s smile was genuine, instead of the mocking smirk he had been expecting. Their close proximity made his tongue fail, and Hanzo could not stop a brief image of their position replicated in a bedroom from flashing through his mind.

“You did well,” Ogundimu praised. “Quite the challenge.”

“...Thank you,” Hanzo said, his voice steadier than he had been expecting. Ogundimu was still hovering over Hanzo on the floor, and the position was suggestive enough that Hanzo felt his cheeks burn. “May I stand?” he asked brusquely.

“Ah, sorry,” Ogundimu said, lifting himself off the floor and offering a hand to Hanzo. Hanzo ignored the proffered hand, getting to his feet alone and studiously brushing off his clothes. He couldn’t help but resent Ogundimu for appeared so collected after flustering Hanzo so much.

Ogundimu and Sojiro spoke for a while, and Hanzo left them to their conversation. Instead, he picked out a towel and made his way to the showers.

When Hanzo glanced back, Ogundimu had disappeared and Sojiro was smiling.

“Yes?” Hanzo asked.

Sojiro shook his head, saying nothing. His smile did not wane, much to Hanzo’s chagrin, and he continued to look infuriatingly knowing.

“...Right then. I wish to spar with Genji. Can you let Ogundimu know?” Hanzo asked, biting back a sigh when his father’s smile grew impossibly wider.

“Of course I’ll let Ogundimu know,” Sojiro responded. His face was deceptively blank, but his eyes sparkled with enough mischief that Hanzo grew suspicious. Feeling distinctly as though he was being mocked, Hanzo quickly made his way to the second training room, glad to escape his father’s intense gaze even if it meant being mocked by Genji instead.

“Brother!” Genji called as soon as he saw him. “Look at this sick shot!” An arrow embedded in the bullseye of a target was split cleanly in half by another arrow buried in the same spot.

“Well done,” Hanzo said, smiling. He didn’t mention that he had managed to do the same trick years before.

Genji nodded his head towards where quivers of arrows were stacked against the wall. “Do you want to practice? I think I’m ready to humiliate you." 

“Your confidence is unearned,” Hanzo said, pulling the same double bullseye trick on a moving target. Genji huffed, but turned his attention to his own bow and arrow, aiming for the numerous targets that moved in an erratic manner across the room. They practiced in silence for a while, hitting the targets consistently and only speaking to offer the occasional advice.

“Father has mentioned you have been behaving,” Hanzo said casually. Sojiro had been mildly concerned by the lack of complaints from Genji’s bodyguard, and Hanzo too had been suspicious upon hearing that Genji had been spending most of his time within the Shimada compound. Genji was notorious for his midnight escapades, and it seemed strange to think he had outgrown them overnight.

“Oh. Yeah,” Genji said, grinning. He hit a target just as Hanzo did, and their arrows were buried side-by-side in the red bullseye. “Would you rather I didn’t?”

Hanzo frowned. It wasn’t that he didn’t _like_ this new Genji, it was that he didn’t _trust_ him. “No, it… is there a particular reason for that?”

“Nope,” Genji said, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Besides a new appreciation for video games.”

Hanzo was baffled. “Oh. Very well then.”

Genji seemed to take pity on him when Hanzo continued to shoot, at a complete loss for words. “Baptiste brought me some new games and he keeps beating me at them. It’s more of a pride thing. I have to defend my title as a gaming champion!”

 _That_ sounded infinitely more like the Genji Hanzo knew. Genji spent more time at arcades than he did at the training rooms, and was ridiculously proud of his video game achievements. The new bodyguard was definitely impressive if he managed to

“How’s your bodyguard?” Genji asked. He lowered his bow, turning his focus onto his brother. “I’ve seen him around a few times. Baptiste says he’s ridiculously strong.”

Hanzo schooled his face to be blank of any expression, and continued to shoot the targets. Despite pretending otherwise, Genji was proficient at reading people,

“He is alright. We just trained together and he is very competent.”

Genji hummed. “Cool. What’s he like?”

“He is… talkative.”

“Exactly what you need then, brother?”

“I do not _need_ him,” Hanzo refuted, pulling a face at the thought. “Not for defence, and especially not for  _talking."_

“I mean,” Genji said, hesitating. “You _are_ kind of antisocial. It might do you some good to be forced to talk to someone, brother.”

Hanzo was beginning to wish that he had remained with his father, even if it meant suffering through his all-knowing gaze. Ogundimu was nice, sure. He was strong and quick and didn’t comment on Hanzo’s panic attacks, but that didn’t mean Hanzo was going to _talk_ to him. Even if the way he generously doled out of smiles made him want to sometimes. “...Focus on your aim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh hanzo is Feeling Things


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you see any mistakes in this, PLEASE let me know! i don't notice spelling mistakes and i get distracted easily so i may have some unfinished paragraphs lying around. i've tried proofreading but please let me know if i've missed something!

Akande spent the next week joining Hanzo in his training. It was dangerous - he felt enough for the other man without experiencing his competence firsthand. And yet Akande couldn’t bring himself to refuse himself the opportunity either. Training with Hanzo was fun. It was unsurprising that the Shimada heir would be talented, but his unpredictability and speed was more of a challenge than Akande had expected.

So they trained. Akande won more often in close combat, but Hanzo had proven that his far range accuracy was superior. With each victory and defeat, Akande found himself picking up new techniques and falling a little more smitten with Hanzo. He would remember snippets of their sessions at inopportune moments… and discussing the mission with Reyes was certainly an inopportune moment.

“Sojiro said the eldest kid was well-trained,” Reyes was saying. “Was he right? Or was he just trying to make his kid out to be more competent than he actually is?”

“No, Hanzo is brilliant fighter,” Akande said honestly. The skull mask that always obscured Reyes’ face made it impossible for Akande to know for sure, but he got the distinct impression that Reyes was rolling his eyes at him. It was obvious that he didn’t approve of Akande not keeping Hanzo at an arm’s length. “I’ve been joining him for his daily training sessions and he’s even beat me in close range a couple of times.”

“That should make your job easier,” Reyes allowed. “But knowing that he has some level of self-defence shouldn’t mean you let your guard down. The Shimada family are an important asset, and we won’t be doing ourselves any favours by letting their kids die.”

“I’m aware,” Akande said, unimpressed with Reyes’ nagging. It was a byproduct of being so new to Talon, but he didn’t appreciate Reyes’ fears that Akande would mishandle every situation.

Reyes concluded the call with little fuss, and Akande made his way to the training room, where Hanzo had asked to meet him. They were practicing sword fighting today, and Akande was rather looking forward to Hanzo’s inevitable victory, even if it was only to witness his triumphant smile. Hanzo had already proved to be extremely proficient with swords, whereas Akande had rarely practiced with them, finding them cumbersome in combat. He would be lying, however, if he said he didn’t find it extremely attractive every time Hanzo swung a sword.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” Akande said as he entered the training room. Hanzo did not reply, but offered a rare smile that Akande could not help but return.

They often did their warm up exercises together, but it appeared that Hanzo had warmed up while waiting for Akande. This alone was not an issue, but when Akande began to stretch his calves he noticed the heir watching him intently. The silent scrutiny was simultaneously intimidating and welcome - Akande found himself pleased that he had caught Hanzo’s attention.

Biting back the urge to show off a little, Akande straightened and picked up the sword that had been set in the middle of the training mat.

“Ready?” he asked.

Hanzo smiled dangerously, and Akande felt it like a dagger in his chest. “Always.”

Akande swung first, the dull blade clashing loudly against Hanzo’s own as the other man countered his attack. Throughout most of the spar, Akande remained on the offensive, attempting new techniques and attacks to pass Hanzo’s impenetrable defense. Hanzo doled out a few simple attacks that Akande countered, but appeared content to let Akande wear himself down.

“I suppose I can’t ask for an easy victory for the sake of my dignity?” Akande teased, breathless from the physical strain of the weighted sword. Hanzo snorted.

“I would sooner cut off my right arm,” Hanzo responded, a wicked little smirk dancing on his lips as he expertly countered Akande’s attack from the right. “Would you like to give up?”

“I would sooner cut off both my arms,” Akande replied, diving in for another attack. Hanzo was holding the hilt of his sword in his right hand, but his left hand had now taken hold the end of the sword. He countered Akande’s attack with the body of the sword, and then replicated the low spinning sweep kick Akande had used in their first sparring session. Akande fell backwards, his sword clattering on the floor beside him.

The dull blade of Hanzo’s sword rested under Akande’s chin, forcing him to look up at the man hovering over him with a victorious smile. “You put up a good fight.”

“And you earned that victory,” Akande admitted. “You are certainly skilled.”

“I have trained with a sword almost as long as I have trained in archery,” Hanzo explained. He retracted his sword - strangely, Akande found himself missing it. “Although Genji is far more proficient than I in swordmanship; you should spar with him.”

“And suffer a more humiliating defeat?” Akande asked, smiling as he stood up. “I’m starting to think you like seeing me flat on my back.”

Hanzo laughed. It was a pretty sound, and unexpected enough that Akande startled. “I could not resist using your spinning sweep kick against you. It is nothing personal.”

“I’m just impressed that you mastered it so quickly,” Akande confessed. “What was that technique you used at the end, when you held the sword on either end?”

“Short serpent guard,” Hanzo said. “My father taught it to me. It is a brilliant way to counter attacks and confuse your opponent long enough to knock their sword away.”

“Impressive.”

“Thank you,” Hanzo said, smiling. “It is one of the few areas I best Genji at in sword-fighting.”

There was a brief silence, in which both Akande and Hanzo focused their attention on putting away the equipment and cleaning up.

“If I may ask,” Akande said, once the training room had been sufficiently tidied, “I do not see your brother often. Why is that?”

Hanzo sighed, suddenly looking weary. “He… goes out often. He is usually out with friends, clubbing or doing god knows what, and returns at strange hours.” Akande frowned, and Hanzo must have noticed because he quickly added, “You need not worry. Recently he only goes out during the day, and always with his bodyguard. He’s been spending his nights in lately. Not to mention he is well-versed in self-defence. He shall be fine.”

Akande nodded. “If he’s anything like you, I don’t doubt that his self-defence is beyond skilful.”

Hanzo offered a small smile that disappeared almost as soon as it formed. Akande cherished it nonetheless. “Do you mind if I shower first?”

“Not at all.”

As Hanzo washed away the sweat of their session, Akande contemplated his own feelings for the heir. Hanzo was attractive, certainly, but he was also ridiculously talented, and Akande always had a _thing_ for competency. It was unprofessional, and Akande had originally intended on quashing his emotions quickly and efficiently. But Hanzo had become slightly more friendly, and while he still glared and rolled his eyes and scowled at any minor inconvenience, he also began directing smiles at Akande. It was becoming… troublesome, to say the least, but Akande could not bring himself to distance himself from the heir who was only just starting to warm up to him.

He sighed. Reyes would kill him if he found out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akande lying on the floor and hanzo standing over him with his sword under akande's chin is... yummy
> 
> i know that akande is actually the de facto leader of talon and therefore wouldnt be so worried about reyes, but it didnt make sense for the leader to be a personal bodyguard, so this is set just as akande joins talon - he's still new and somewhat proving his worth, and will climb the ranks later


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i genuinely have no idea how long this fic is going to be, bear with me! on the bright side, here's some plot

Hanzo rarely left the Shimada compound unless it was for work. Between meetings and political events, he tended to stay in the various buildings on Shimada land. After all, there was little reason to venture out - the chefs would make whichever food he fancied, the library was extensive, and the gardens were always available when he needed some air.

“I wish to visit the library,” Hanzo announced as he walked into the bodyguard’s room. Akande was unsure why he felt the need to announce this, as the compound was considered safe enough that Hanzo was allowed to roam without a bodyguard’s supervision. Akande smiled politely, but Hanzo continued to stare at him expectantly. “Well?”

“Have fun?” Akande tried.

Hanzo rolled his eyes, but it was noticeably more fond than it would have been two weeks ago. “I meant, are you coming?”

“I would have thought you’d be itching to get away from me after I’ve followed you for three meetings in a single day.”

“You misunderstand, I _am._ But I wish to go to the Hanamura library outside of the compound. The book I am looking for is not available in our home library.”

“Ah,” Akande said. He bit back the mild disappointment that Hanzo was not, in fact, merely asking him in order to spend time in his company. Such an action would be out of character for the prickly heir, after all, but that did not prevent the bitter taste of gloom that tainted his tongue. “I will be ready in a few moments.”

Hanzo nodded, exiting the room. Akande changed into a suit and secured his gun into the holster. After checking that his room was in order, he stepped out.

“After you, good sir,” Akande said to Hanzo, who only snorted and walked away. Despite the lack of reply, Akande still felt a rush of pride at making Hanzo break his stoic disposition. Any expression of emotion was, with Hanzo, a win.

The Hanamura library was beautiful, although not quite as large as the library on the Shimada compound. It had a rustic charm, with its wood furniture and warm orange lighting. The staff too were good-natured, smiling brightly at them as they entered. There were a few people sitting at tables with laptops and books, but it was largely empty.

Hanzo appeared to be familiar with the layout, as he immediately made his way over to a small collection of shelves in the furthest corner of the first floor. He began to peruse the books there, and Akande took the opportunity to make note of their escape routes. It would be relatively easy to escape quickly, as they were on the first floor and could avoid the hassle of taking the stairs, but that would mean little if someone decided to block the doors. Still, the layout wasn’t the worst that Akande had to deal with.

“Are you not going to sit down?” Hanzo asked, drawing Akande’s attention to him once more.

“You’re aware that I’m still on duty, right?” Akande said.

Hanzo raised an eyebrow. “The likelihood of an attack in the library is low. I do not visit often enough for enemies to predict my presence here, and you know that we were not followed on our way.”

“And let overconfidence be my downfall?”

Hanzo shook his head, but wore a small smile on his face. “Fair enough. I shan’t take long, so feel free to exhaust yourself standing despite all the available chairs.”

“Ah, yes, because I so desperately awaited your permission to do so,” Akande said, and grinned when his sarcasm made Hanzo laugh. Akande continued to stand as Hanzo sat at the table with a large book, immersing himself in it almost immediately. Hanzo always looked particularly attractive when he was concentrating, with a small furrow appearing in his brow and the intensity that Akande had become familiar with increased two-fold.

Akande averted his attention from the heir, partly to ensure their safety in what was decidedly not neutral ground, and partly because Hanzo looked far too charming for someone doing something as simple as reading a book.

“I have finished,” Hanzo announced after an hour, closing the book he was not even half way through and placing it back on the shelf.

“What were you reading?”

“A rather dull book on systems of global power,” Hanzo responded. “The impact of unipolarity, bipolarity and multipolarity on global order. You have heard of them?”

“I did a course in global politics in university,” Akande said. “Essentially, it’s power concentrated in one state, two states or multiple states, right?”

“Yes,” Hanzo said, looking at Akande curiously. “What did you study in university?”

“Business and international relations. It was expected to prepare me for taking over the family business, but my ambitions were a tad larger than my company back home.”

“Ah… Well, this book believes that the distribution of power between two states is most beneficial for world order, and cites the Cold War as evidence.” Hanzo snorted derisively. “As though millions did not die in proxy wars.”

Akande hummed, thinking. “I would argue that it was luck and the expertise of individuals that prevented the Cold War devolving into nuclear war. There were far too many close calls that could have been disastrous; the Cuban Missile Crisis, for one.

“Exactly!” Hanzo exclaimed. “To believe that world order can be achieved through a system of bipolarity that would inevitably create massive conflict between two poles of power is delusional.”

“And yet,” Akande added, “the world is always anarchic, no matter where power sits. Unipolarity and multipolarity would not manage to assuage the inherent chaos of global politics. Order is simply impossible.”

Hanzo tilted his head slightly, an action that should not have been so endearing. “I agree that absolute order is impossible, but I don’t believe that means that chaos should be embraced. There is a wide spectrum between chaos and order, and we should at least attempt to inch closer to order, even if we cannot reach it.”

“A valid point,” Akande conceded. “Although I cannot help but think that the masses of effort poured into achieving some level of order is not worth the meagre, short-lived results it creates, especially as some of humanity’s best achievements are created by conflict and fear, as opposed to peace and safety.”

Hanzo raised an eyebrow. “Would you not argue that, in times of peace, people can concentrate their efforts on inventions instead of war?”  

“But even in times of peace, the fear of that peace breaking propels inventions. Peace, security and life are not guaranteed, and it is an awareness of this that encourages individuals to do everything to achieve or prolong peace.”

Hanzo smiled widely. It was a little blinding, likely because Akande had never seen Hanzo smile so unabashedly, and Akande found himself desperate to touch those soft, pretty lips. “I rather enjoy our talks, Ogundimu. Genji never paid enough attention to his education to debate with me properly. It is nice to discuss such issues sometimes.”

“Perhaps you can repay me by calling me my first name,” Akande suggested. He knew he was pushing his luck, knew that Hanzo could clam up at the suggestion, but he found himself willing to take the risk to hear Hanzo say his name. Hanzo appeared startled, but after an excruciatingly long moment, laughed.

“Very well, _Akande,”_ Hanzo said almost teasingly.

It sounded… exquisite. Hearing him say his name, along with the teasing tone and small smile dancing at his lips, made blood rush to Akande’s cheeks. He prayed that his dark skin would hide his flush.

A movement in the corner of his eye drew Akande’s attention away from Hanzo. The corner they were sat in was rather isolated, making it difficult to miss the man that joined them. Although the stranger appeared, at first glance, to be perusing a shelf, his eyes were suspiciously still, and he appeared tense and nervous. Akande watched him from the corner of his eye, assessing whether the man was a threat, and saw the man reach for his pocket as he began to turn towards Hanzo and Akande.

“Get down,” Akande said, and when Hanzo did not move quickly enough, grabbed him by the lapel of his blazer and dragged him to the floor. Split seconds later, the sound of gunshots filled the library, but the tables they were hid behind provided cover. Akande pulled out his own gun, and peeked over the table quickly to fire a quick succession of bullets. At least one must have hit the man, as he heard furious cursing. More bullets were shot, although Akande could not tell if it hit any of the civilians currently in the library. Footsteps belied the man’s route towards the tables the two men were hid behind. Akande readied his gun and, when the man appeared standing over them, knocked his gun out of his hand and pressed his own gun against the man’s chest.

“Hands up,” he said.

The man complied quickly. He looked young, younger than Hanzo and Akande, and his age was further emphasised by how fearful he looked. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he appeared close to tears. Akande almost felt sympathetic.

“Please don’t kill me,” the man, no, _boy,_ begged. “I’ll tell you anything, I’ll give you anything, please!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ramadan is kicking my ass oof


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's not much happening between akande and hanzo here, it's mostly plot based but the next chapter will just be the two of them walking through a garden and talking

Their attacker was the heir of a rival family: Hiroshigo Saito. He was seventeen, and clearly lacked the ruthlessness yakuza families expected from heirs. With a little coercion, he explained that his elders had been unimpressed with his performance, and demanded that he kill Hanzo in order to prove his worth. He explained that Tomoko Hayashi had been recruited by the Saito family, which had originally planned to continue to recruit Shimada household staff to kill Genji, Hanzo and Sojiro.

“How did you know where I would be?” Hanzo asked. “You could not have guessed that I would be at the Hanamura library.”

Saito hesitated, eyes darting away guiltily.

“I can still shoot you where you sit,” Sojiro reminded him. “Answer the question.”

“Your phone has been hacked,” Saito admitted finally. “There’s a location tracker on there. Tomoko installed it.”

Hanzo frowned. He normally kept his phone close on his person, and didn’t trust to leave it unattended. There would have been little opportunity for Tomoko to have installed a location tracker… Except a few months ago. Hanzo had misplaced his phone, which had been peculiar. He hadn’t thought much of it, as after retracing his steps he found it on the floor of the corridor. He had assumed that it had dropped from his pocket, but it could easily have been slipped from his pocket.

“He didn’t manage to place one on yours,” Saito continued, watching Sojiro nervously. “He said you spent most of your time in your office.”

“Are there any more planned attempts on the lives of my family?” Sojiro asked. His voice remained deceptively even, but he did not need to raise his voice to strike fear. His tone was so cool that Hanzo almost felt the temperature of the room drop further. If the scene was intimidating for Hanzo, then Saito, sitting handcuffed in a cold room with the man whose son he attempted to kill standing over him, must have been terrified. Hanzo pitied him.

“They… wanted to kill you too,” Saito said. “But they have not decided how. They wanted to attack Genji by hacking his phone too, but, uh, Tomoko also said that Genji spent most of his time on his phone so he couldn’t take it without drawing suspicion.”

Who would have known that Genji’s addiction to social media could have saved his life? Hanzo felt inexplicably tired for a moment. He knew well the realities of being the heir to a powerful criminal family, and he did not begrudge the power and influence his position offered him, and yet he found himself wishing, just for a moment, a simpler life. The chance to live without fear of assassination, without the distance his family name put between him and those he could have considered friends in another lifetime, without the bodies of those he had killed weighing him down… It felt like a luxury he didn’t deserve, but Hanzo wished for it nonetheless.

Hanzo heard footsteps behind him.

“Would you like to take a break?” Akande murmured into his ear, barely audible over Sojiro’s continued interrogation.

“No,” Hanzo said, curt. No matter what he fantasized in the safety of his daydreams, he was a Shimada, with an obligation to his family’s legacy. And he would not be _babied_. Thankfully, Akande did not press the issue, taking a few steps back to return to his position near the door.

“I would like to… request protection from the Shimada family,” Saito said, watching Sojiro nervously. Sojiro laughed, the sound unnerving as it echoed on the walls of the otherwise quiet room.

“It would be far less hassle for me to shoot you,” Sojiro pointed out. He seemed amused, although Saito, whose intense shivering forced the tears welled in his eyes to slip down his cheeks, did not seem to share in his humour. “Why should I protect you, at the risk of my family?”

“Because I can give you information,” Saito said. The boy straightened his back, clearly attempting to emulate confidence, but the facade was betrayed by his quivering lower lip. “I will tell you anything you wish to know about the Hiroshigo family, and help you bring them down.”

Saito was willing to betray his family? Hanzo carefully schooled his face to hide his surprise. It was customary in such families to accept death over becoming a traitor. Saito’s willingness to admit his plan could have been attributed to his young age, but even a seventeen year old should have known that helping an enemy dismantle his own family was unthinkable.

“You would give up your family for your own meager life?” Sojiro asked. Saito’s gaze dropped to the floor.

“I never cared for them anyway,” Saito admitted. “Our money is born from blood and corruption. It would be my pleasure to watch them fall.”

Sojiro was silent for a moment, staring down at the boy with apparent disdain. “Think this over. Ask yourself if you are prepared to save your life at the expense of your family’s livelihood. I shall return tomorrow.”

Sojiro left the room, followed by two of the guards. Hanzo spared a glance at Saito before following his father, with Akande at his heel.

“Father,” he called as soon as the door swung shut. Sojiro turned to look at him, his customary mild smile returning to his face. “Was it wise to let him think about it? He may change his mind.”

“That is a boy who has long harboured a hatred of his family,” Sojiro told him. “If given a day in a cold room with prisoners’ food and no distractions, he will only be more eager to give up his family.”

“Especially if he blames them for his capture,” Hanzo realised.

“That’s right,” Sojiro said, patting Hanzo on the cheek. It reminded Hanzo very distinctly of presenting perfect grades to his father at the age of eight, or being praised for his spelling years before that. “He would give us invaluable information either way, but this way, he’s less likely to withhold anything. Soon you will learn to recognise opportunities for such strategies.” And with that, Sojiro walked away, most likely making his way back to his study. Hanzo stared after him, wondering if Sojiro’s faith that Hanzo to be as cunning as him was misplaced.

“Would you like to take a walk through the gardens?” Akande asked behind him. “The weather is lovely today.”

Biting back a sigh prompted by the guilt of snapping at Akande earlier, Hanzo turned to the man behind him. “I would like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honeydew mei OWNS my ass, and i WILL be getting her skin whether through a lootbox or with coins bc i will lose all hope in overwatch if i dont get to play with that skin


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the boys go for a walk and hanzo opens up a little!! akande is very good at reading people which is essential bc hanzo is a bitch to read

Hanzo, to his credit, was incredibly good at hiding his emotions. He did not appear tired, nor upset, nor torn over the results of the earlier interrogation. His face, smooth as marble, betrayed nothing, and yet Akande could not forget the way his front had slipped during the interrogation. Hanzo was not emotionless, no matter how much he worked to appear that way, and Akande found himself wishing to pierce the facade to know the inner workings of the man.

“How do you handle it?” Akande asked finally, as they ambled directionless through the Shimada gardens. “The stress of it all.”

Hanzo did not respond for a long moment, and Akande began to worry that he had overstepped his boundaries. Just as he opened his mouth to apologise for intruding, Hanzo responded.

“I tell myself that the work is necessary and important, and let my sense of duty fuel me,” he said. Akande turned to look at him, but Hanzo’s gaze was fixed firmly on the neatly trimmed grass.

“...Sounds unhealthy.”

Hanzo didn’t laugh, per se, but he let out an amused breath that made Akande’s chest feel tight nonetheless. “It certainly is. But this is my life. I must accept it.”

“Not necessarily,” Akande argued.

“Oh?”

“You could fake your death,” Akande said, smiling faintly. Hanzo snorted at the suggestion. “Let Genji take over, run away and join Talon.”

“And you think that would work?” Hanzo asked, now smiling too as he humoured the bodyguard.

Akande shrugged. “You’d be surprised how many Talon members have faked their deaths to join.” It wasn’t entirely unrealistic. Reyes had made a far more risky leap from a lead position in Overwatch into Talon, and transitioning from one criminal organisation to another was surely less hassle than what Reyes had managed.

“I could wear a mask,” Hanzo added. “Create a persona, ensure that I am not traced back to my past.”

“It could work,” Akande agreed. It was difficult to tell if Hanzo was genuinely considering it, or if he was simply joking. He prayed it was the former, but when Hanzo sighed, his smile slipping off his face, he had a distinct feeling the latter was more likely.

“I have a duty to my family,” he said, morose. “I cannot leave them.”

Akande did not respond, only humming in acknowledgement. They walked in silence for a while, and Akande plucked leaves off the bushes to tear up and scatter onto the path.

“It is not too bad, most of the time,” Hanzo admitted finally. “I enjoy working with my father, and I love my brother too much to leave the burden of inheriting the business to him alone.”

Akande could not imagine feeling such a dedication to his family that he would accept conditions he did not want. He had left his family business as soon as his ambition outgrew his, after all, and had killed the one man that had mentored him. To dedicate oneself so wholly to family, even when it began to wear an individual down… it was honorable, if perhaps unwise.

“Perhaps you should put yourself and your needs above your family’s?” Akande suggested. Hanzo shot him a mildly amused glance.

“And stop having those awfully fun panic attacks? I don’t think so.”

Akande raised an eyebrow, surprised at Hanzo’s willingness to bring up his panic attacks without being forced to. Hanzo seemed to hate any reminder of weakness, and if Akande hadn’t noticed this before then he most certainly would have after his snappishness at Akande’s suggestion of a break mid-interrogation. Although, to be fair, Hanzo looked as if he was regretting bringing it up anyway.

“A poor joke,” Hanzo said, grimacing.

“I don’t mind,” Akande replied.

Hanzo sighed. He sounded exhausted. Akande wondered if he got enough sleep. “They’re inconvenient, but not awful. I rarely experience them, and I’ve gotten pretty good at leaving situations before people have noticed. You’re the first person to have seen one.”

“What would you do if anyone else saw?” Akande asked. Hanzo seemed careful about his image, and knowledge of his panic attacks would destroy that.

Hanzo shrugged. “Probably kill them, if they are not too important. I cannot afford my weaknesses being displayed.”

“Should I be worried?” Akande asked teasingly. Hanzo bumped his shoulder against Akande’s, a rare moment of affection that left Akande devastatingly endeared. If Akande was a less graceful man, he would have walked into a bush that he had not noticed, preoccupied as he was with staring at Hanzo’s smile. Akande deftly avoided it, although he couldn’t be sure if Hanzo’s smile was a result of his teasing or if he had seen Akande’s mistake. Either way, the man thankfully did not comment on it.

“A little late to kill you, I think, and I do have some level of trust for you at this point,” Hanzo said. His words seemed to startle him as much as they did Akande. Despite seeing that Hanzo was less adversarial than when they had first met, hearing that Hanzo did, to an extent, trust him made Akande feel somewhat giddy. It was hardly a confession of undying love, but it was far more than what he would have expected from the prickly man when he first met him. As warming as his words were, however, Hanzo appeared mildly uncomfortable, and looked seconds away from retreating into his shell. Akande stayed silent, and, after a long moment, Hanzo spoke again.

“Besides,” he added, clearly pretending that he had not said anything about trust. “I accepted that if I were to have a personal bodyguard, they would most likely find out.”

“And you were not worried that I would take advantage?” Akande asked, curious.

“My father has screened you thoroughly,” Hanzo said, sounding far more noncommittal than Akande had expected. “And besides, I could still kill you afterwards.”

“Your faith in me warms my heart,” Akande teased.

Hanzo smiled at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling up endearingly. “Come. Let us return inside.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nano ur comments are so motivating and you're so sweet thank you sO much!!!!!

Hanzo’s awareness of the importance of his work did not make meetings any less dreary, particularly when they included a larger number of the council than usual. The elders knew their place most of the time, and were careful not to overstep with neither Sojiro nor Hanzo, and yet they had their own way of making clear their disapproval. It was exhausting, attempting to please as many of them at once. Earning their approval was a difficult feat, but essential. The elders’ opinions were not vital, but overwhelming discontent would fracture the family, and it was important to gain their approval where possible.

And yet Hanzo couldn’t _stand_ them.

“I’m telling you, it’s a trap,” Masako said, an old, hardy woman who had never cowed under Sojiro’s cold stare, and now refused to hide her disdain for his decision. Her wrinkled hands were placed atop each other, resting on the table as she stared at Hanzo’s father with stony features.

“That is a possibility,” Sojiro agreed. “However, it is not a significant risk compared to the possible benefits if the boy is telling the truth.”

Saito had marked the location of the largest warehouse of illegal firearms owned by the Hiroshigo family. Sojiro and Hanzo had both agreed

“Which is unlikely,” Masako shot back, the smile on her face at odds with the coldness in her eyes. A few of the other elders shot her a glance, clearly made nervous by her lack of fear. “Families like ours do not raise traitors, especially not when they are _heirs._ An heir would not risk throwing away his future and family so easily. He’s working with the family, and he is feeding false information to make our family fall when we act upon it.”

“Thank you, Masako-san,” Sojiro said, with a small smile that also did not reach his eyes. “I can always trust you to provide your honest opinion.”

Essentially, a warning that she was becoming too opinionated. Hanzo resisted the urge to fidget as the tension in the room doubled. Instead, he stared impassively at the wall.

“The opportunity to bring the Hiroshigo family to heel is too valuable to pass up,” another elder said. Hisoka shot an indignant look at Nobu, clearly gearing up to argue with him, but he raised a hand before continuing to speak. “But Hisoka-san is correct in that there’s a high chance that this is a plot from the Hiroshigo family. Perhaps we can utilise the information without putting our people in risk.”

“And how would you propose that we do that?” Sojiro asked.

“We pass the information on to the police,” Nobu said simply. “They will raid the warehouse, confiscate everything, and if it _is_ a trap, we will not lose any of our assets.”

Murmurs of dissent filled the room, and Sojiro too looked unimpressed with Nobu’s suggestion. Hanzo didn’t blame them - intimidation was a necessary tactic in their line of business, and that included signing their work. The police would no doubt ensure that every firearm was confiscated, especially with so many Shimada allies placed strategically throughout the police force, but they would also take the credit. The Hiroshigo family would know it was the work of the Shimada family, but other families would not be so certain. Intimidating other families and deterring attacks was just as important as countering the Hiroshigo family, and passing the matter onto the police would mean that other families would not be so motivated to remain on the Shimada family’s good side.

“Part of having a good business sense is being able to make events benefit you,” another elder pointed out. “Every situation must be manipulated to provide as many advantages as possible.”

“You went bankrupt twice, Ichika-san, what do you know of good business sense?”

“Thank you, Satsuki-san,” Ichika said sharply. The smile on Satsuki’s face showed no warmth. “I cannot change the past, but I still care deeply for the future of this family. I have learnt from my mistakes years ago and my experience colours my advice.”

“Hanzo,” Sojiro called, cutting through the elders’ squarral. “How would you suggest we approach this?”

It was not unusual for Sojiro to ask Hanzo’s opinion. As the heir to the family business, it was necessary for him to prepare to provide suitable solutions to such issues. Despite this, he felt a distinct discomfort when all eyes trained onto him, ready to nitpick every word that left his mouth. He had learnt from a young age how to speak diplomatically, mimicking his father’s ability to erase any opportunity to misconstrue his words and ensure that people felt that their dissent was heard instead of brushed aside, but he still feared often that he would make one mistake that would be pounced upon like starved beasts on fresh meat.

“It is too large a risk to act predictably,” Hanzo said carefully. The sharp stares of the elders felt as though they were piercing through his skin like needles, but he had learnt long ago to talk as though fear was an unfamiliar emotion. “Even if they did not plan the betrayal, they may prepare for it, if they are aware of how weak their heir is. We can bring up our hand in the incident with other families when in meetings with them, and still utilise this as deterrence for further attacks.”

“We lose a significant amount of impact if we have to tell families about our actions, rather than having them witnessing it for themselves,” Hisoka pointed out.

“A valid point,” Hanzo conceded. “But a sacrifice we must be willing to take to avoid making ourselves vulnerable to a planned attack.”

“Then it is decided,” Sojiro announced, clapping his hands together. The sound reverberated in the room. “We shall pass the information to our allies in the police force, and will mention our hand in the event when in meetings with the other families. It is the best way to both protect ourselves and irreparably damage the Hiroshigo family’s prospects.”

Hisoka grumbled in objection, but the remainder of the elders nodded their approval. Sojiro stood and bowed to the table, before exiting the room. The meeting now concluded, the elders took their time ambling out of the room, talking loudly amongst themselves. Meetings were always tense and emotionally draining, but it appeared that the universe took pity on Hanzo and made the elders easier to wrangle today. Still, an hour in a stuffy room with old relatives that agreed on nothing was far from relaxing, and Hanzo found himself yearning for an early night.

“You look exhausted,” a familiar voice said. Hanzo turned to see Akande waiting for him, his customary gentle smile dancing at his lips. At the sight of the man, Hanzo could not stop a smile forming on his own face. Akande had become something of a beacon of hope. Despite his original misgivings, Hanzo found the man to be gentle, genuinely interested in being Hanzo’s friend, and trustworthy. Moments with Akande were a rare opportunity to not choose his words as carefully as he usually would, and he appreciated the respite.

“Your compliments are, as ever, heartwarming,” Hanzo replied. Akande laughed, a now familiar sound that invoked warmth in Hanzo’s chest.

“Headed to your room?”

“I shall need to, if I want any semblance of mental stability.”

“I should warn you,” Akande said apologetically. “Genji and Baptiste have set up camp there. They broke Genji’s television and hijacked yours.”

Hanzo sighed. Genji’s enthusiasm for video games had, in too many cases, led to broken appliances, especially when that enthusiasm spilled over into primitive fervour. “So they decided to break mine too? And he did not even _ask,_ the insolent brat.”

His phone chimed. Fishing it from his pockets, he unlocked it to find a text from his brother, explaining that they would be using his television to play video games and he was welcome to join them when he was finished with the meeting.

“Never mind,” Hanzo muttered. He could feel the beginnings of a headache creeping into his skull. “I shall head to the library instead.”

“Or,” Akande said, “You could stay at my room? You’re less likely to be interrupted there and you look like you could do with some peace."

Hanzo hesitated. It was a monumentally bad idea. Accepting an invitation to Akande's private quarters, no matter how innocuous the intention, would only fuel the feelings Hanzo had been attempting to quash. It was difficult enough to control the budding warmth in his chest as they shared each other's company on neutral grounds such as the garden.

"It was just a suggestion," Akande added. Hanzo felt a little guilty - his constant anxiety seemed to mean that Akande was always attempting to give him his space, as though he was a ruly horse he was attempting to tame without getting kicked in the face.

"Let us go," Hanzo said abruptly. He took off before Akande responded, glaring at the corridor as if it was to blame for his lapse in good decision making.

"To the library?" Akande asked, his long legs quickly catching up and matching Hanzo's stride with ease.

"Your room," he corrected. He pretended he could not see Akande's smile from the corner of his eye, pretended he couldn’t feel his heartbeat growing wild and erratic, and prayed that this would not end in heartbreak and humiliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> doomzo is just a skittish horse vs young girl attempting to give the horse some strawberries while avoiding getting trampled on with hooves


	9. Chapter 9

This was a mistake. 

Hanzo had, of course, known from the moment he had agreed to stay at Akande’s room that he would regret this decision. Despite this, he was not prepared for just how immense a mistake it was. He had hoped, in vain, that Akande would not have personalised the room, so that he could pretend that they were resting in a meeting room or another indifferent setting. From the moment he stepped inside, it was impossible to indulge in what would have been a reassuring delusion. 

_ The whole room smelt like him.  _ It wasn’t an unpleasant smell - quite the contrary. Akande appeared to indulge in an expensive cologne, and he usually applied it moderately. The spicy smell had charming on a day to day basis, but otherwise manageable. But concentrated strongly in his room, where Hanzo was perched awkwardly at the edge of his bed, it was almost too much to handle. 

“I’d ask if you want to watch something on the television, but I’m not sure that’s your kind of thing,” Akande commented, seeming unbothered. Hanzo sent a quick text to Genji, requesting that he texted him back when he and his bodyguard were done with his room.

“It’s not, usually,” Hanzo admitted. “But I’m not opposed to a good documentary, if you can find one.” 

Akande nodded, and began to search through the channels to find something that would catch their interest. Hanzo watched him, taking in the details of Akande’s face. His prominent cheekbones and strong brow created an alluring sight, and even when he was stood in front of a television flicking through the channels, he stood with confidence and authority. It was understandable to be attracted to him, Hanzo reasoned, most  _ would  _ be. But that didn’t make Hanzo’s occasional incapacitation around the man any less embarrassing.

“What  _ do  _ you do in your spare time?” Akande asked, interrupting Hanzo’s reverie. It was only with years of training that Hanzo didn’t fall off the bed. Akande had picked out a documentary on the workings of space and various of its intriguing elements. It seemed interesting, and Hanzo focused carefully on the screen as Akande removed his blazer and opened the top two buttons of his shirt. 

“Spare time is a luxury I usually can’t afford,” Hanzo admitted. He stretched carefully to ease the tension in his back. Akande tutted sympathetically, perhaps at his words or at the rather loud crack his back made. 

“Working yourself into the grave will do you no good,” Akande warned him. He sat next to Hanzo on the bed, a respectable distance between them. Hanzo’s heart still fluttered. 

“Probably,” he replied simply, and returned his attention to the documentary. Akande made no attempt to push the conversation, simply humming and continuing to watch the screen as the narrator explained the possible future dangers black holes could pose to Earth. No words were spoken for a long while, and Hanzo could almost forget that he was sitting in Akande’s room, on Akande’s  _ bed _ , surrounded by the smell of Akande’s cologne. He lost himself in the explanations of wormholes and the possibility of time travel, until he felt that maddening ache between his shoulders again. He stretched, attempting to find any kind of relief, when Akande spoke again. 

“Would you like a massage?” 

Hanzo stared at him. “Pardon?” 

Akande smiled, as though Hanzo was an amusing little toy. “I said, would you like a massage? I’m rather skilled at them, and you’ve appeared tense all day.” 

Hanzo floundered, and as he attempted to find words Akande looked more and more amused. “I- Okay. Sure.” 

* * *

Akande hadn’t been expected Hanzo to agree, had been prepared for a gentle but firm no. The sound of Hanzo’s back cracking uncomfortably had made him wince, and he had intended to ask only so that Hanzo would consider a massage in the future, perhaps when they were closer. Confronted with the fact that he now had to deal with a situation he had not prepared himself for, he was reminded of Hanzo’s unpredictable nature.

He stood, gesturing at Hanzo to lie down on the bed. He seemed uncomfortable, but complied, lowering himself awkwardly to lie on his front. Akande hovered over him, a thigh on either side of Hanzo’s leg, and carefully avoided letting his gaze dip further south than Hanzo’s lower back. Instead, he placed both hands on Hanzo’s back, feeling the man tense immediately under his touch.

“Relax,” Akande said soothingly. Unsurprisingly, the tension did not relent. 

Hopefully, Hanzo would unwind when he realised that Akande would not take advantage of his position to kill him. Akande began to work, his hands moving with expertise and confidence across Hanzo’s back. It began with long, gliding strokes, and when Hanzo winced at the pressure near his shoulders, he began to focus his attentions there, kneading the taut muscle.

“How are you so good at this?” Hanzo asked, sounding rather breathless.

“I used to do massages for my mother,” Akande explained. He rarely talked about his family - not because he considered the topic personal, but because he simply did not think about them. He had not been particularly close to either of his parents; he had been raised primarily by a maid, as his father died a few years after his birth and his mother was preoccupied with running the family business. They had spent little time together, and so Akande had felt no guilt nor remorse in leaving the business behind to join Talon. “She worked long hours and was always busy, much like you. She would call me from my room just before I went to bed so that I would massage her back, or else she wouldn’t sleep properly at night.” 

Hanzo hummed in satisfaction. “Your experience has done you great favours.” 

“Looks like it’s doing more favours for you,” Akande teased. The man laughed into the bedsheets, the tips of his ears flushing almost imperceptibly. 

Akande continued his ministrations, carefully working through every knot in Hanzo’s back before patting the man’s shoulder. “There, that should be it.” 

Hanzo sat up, stretching again, although this time the action was not accompanied by any worrying cracking sounds. “Thank you, Akande. I am aware this is hardly what you expected from the job description.” 

“It’s my pleasure,” Akande said, unable to bite back his smile in the face of Hanzo’s sheepish gratitude. “You work yourself too hard, my friend. You ought to find a chance to relax from time to time.” 

“Perhaps I should consider your offer to run away to Talon then, because I certainly won’t find opportunities to relax while here.” 

Although at first glance, Hanzo appeared to be joking, Akande heard the truthfulness hidden behind his words. He did not say anything, lest Hanzo retreat into his shell and deny everything, but he stored the information away. Hanzo appeared unhappy working within the Shimada family, to say the least, and Akande knew first hand that abandoning family loyalties to chase one’s own desires was a rewarding experience. Still, there was a greater tradition of duty in Hanzo’s family, and the man would most likely not respond positively to Akande offering him an opportunity to leave it all behind.

Hanzo’s phone lit up with a ping, notifying a message that Akande could see was from Genji. Hanzo read  it, then quickly locked his phone again and placed it on the bedside table. It must not have been important. 

“Would you like to finish the documentary?” Akande offered. Hanzo smiled.

“Yes.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a massage scene!!!!! i was gonna make them kiss in this chapter but decided to make this fic a little longer. the author giveth and the author taketh away i guess


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little :( but then it ends with a :)

Hanzo returned from his meeting, evidently dazed. When Akande placed a hand on his forearm, the man jumped before his startled expression gave way to a weary smile. 

“Ah, Akande. My apologies, I did not see you.” 

Akande tilted his head as he considered the man before him. Hanzo was not careless enough in his demeanor to make his exhaustion obvious through poor body posture, but his eyes gave it away nonetheless. Hanzo looked as though he was a million miles away. Akande hesitated, afraid that his words would further drive the man away when the distance now already seemed so large. “Would you… like to go back to your room?” 

Hanzo did not respond for a moment, staring blankly at the wall before giving a single, imperceptible nod. Akande bit back his disappointment, inappropriate as it was, and instead walked side by side with Hanzo through the corridors to their quarters.

“Try and get some sleep,” Akande advised when they reached the door, intending to take the opportunity for an early night. Hanzo did not open the door immediately, instead staring at Akande as though he was unfamiliar. The empty gaze worried Akande, but he could not bring himself to push. 

“Stay?” Hanzo asked, sounding pitifully small. 

Akande knew that it was a bad idea. Hanzo’s quarters were personal, and proximity in those areas would inevitably lead to Akande becoming… emotionally compromised, to say the least. He was aware that Hanzo himself was compromised, albeit for a different reason, even if he was not sure what was going through the man’s mind right now. Both of them needed space, not the opportunity to fuck up. 

And yet Akande nodded, following Hanzo inside. 

Hanzo did not sit at the bed, as they had in Akande’s room last night. Instead, he sat on the floor, back against the wall, neatly folding his legs. After a brief moment of hesitation, Akande sat opposite him, crossing his legs too. They did not speak. Hanzo, for the most part, did not even look at Akande, training his gaze on the floor between them. Unsure what to say, uncertain on what had even happened, Akande studied the wall opposite him, analysing the almost imperceptible marks on the paint and imagining lines drawing constellations between the marks. 

“You shall be leaving soon,” Hanzo said finally. Akande drew his attention away from the wall.

“Is that so?” 

Hanzo nodded. “The threat has been dealt with. There is no further need of you here.” 

His words struck like knives thrown with a well-trained arm, embedding into his chest. Akande had seen first-hand Hanzo’s accuracy with throwing knives, just as he had experienced first-hand Hanzo’s ability to make Akande’s heart swell. Akande almost wished the man was not so proficient in everything he attempted.

“I see,” Akande said, unsure of what to add. There was little else he could say without giving away just how attached he had grown to Hanzo, how he had come to consider him a friend and hoped, however futile, for more. He pretended for a moment that the sombre look on Hanzo’s face was the pain of saying goodbye, instead of whatever its true cause was. 

“Genji has been acting out again,” Hanzo then said. He seemed to notice Akande’s confusion at the change of topic, and elaborated. “He’s been better behaved with Baptiste around. I think he’s liked the change in company from his usual party friends." 

"And now Baptiste is leaving," Akande realised. Hanzo nodded, rubbing a hand across his face. 

"The elders aren't happy," he added. "They want me to… handle it."

Akande was not naive. He knew how such families worked, knew the weight that came behind the phrase 'handle it'. The second child was not as indispensable as the first heir, after all. Hanzo appeared far more attached to his family than Akande ever was to his own, but this knowledge did not make it any easier to understand what Hanzo was planning to do.

"Will you do it?" he asked.

"I have a duty to my family." 

Genji was family, no matter how exasperated Hanzo sounded when he recounted tales of his brother's misbehaviour. The elders were family, no matter how exhausted Hanzo became after every meeting with them. Akande still had no idea which Hanzo was leaning towards. "Who is your family? Genji or the elders?"

"Your offer is tempting," Hanzo said instead of answering Akande's question. 

"To hide your identity and join Talon?"

"Yes." 

Akande reached out, placing his hand atop of Hanzo's. Hanzo looked as though he was going to pull away, before relaxing.  _ "You _ are tempting." 

Akande raised an eyebrow, not knowing what to make of Hanzo's words. The other man flushed, cherry red staining his cheeks. "I mean, you are free in a way I am not, having thrown off the shackles of family long ago. I… envy you." 

This was a careful path to tread. A single mistake, one misspoken word or misconstrued sentence would make Hanzo retreat. Fuelled by the ever growing blush Hanzo could not hide from his cheeks, Akande spoke. 

"Is that all you find tempting?" 

Hanzo did not reply. His hand, still beneath Akande's own, fidgeted with the fabric of his clothing as Hanzo looked away. His silence spoke more than his words ever could. Further emboldened, Akande's hand rose from atop of Hanzo's to rest gently on his cheek. Hanzo's eyes squeezed shut, but instead of pulling away from the touch, Akande watched him lean into it. 

"Hanzo," Akande murmured, neither a call nor a question, merely a moment to revel in their proximity.

Hanzo finally spoke. "You are insufferable." 

His words were almost enough to make Akande laugh but he refrained from doing so. The moment felt fragile, as though any noise above a whisper would cause it to shatter. "I suppose I am."

"I don't hate it," Hanzo added. 

"Hanzo," Akande repeated. "May I kiss you?"

Hanzo's eyes finally opened, as he said hoarsely, "Please do."

The kiss was unbearably brief, a mere brush of lips for a moment, an acknowledgement of their shared feelings before Akande pulled away. It felt inappropriate that, in the face of Hanzo’s crisis, to concern himself with his own feelings. 

“Would you actually join me?” Akande asked. He knew he sounded too desperate, but he liked Hanzo far too much to watch him waste away on the Shimada compound. And a more selfish part of him wanted to see Hanzo everyday, even when Sojiro decided that personal bodyguards were not a necessity.

“I should not,” Hanzo said, and then sighed. “But I would want to.” 

“How often do you let what you shouldn’t do stand in the way of what you want to do?” Akande asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Almost all of my life, why?” Hanzo responded dryly.

“Perhaps it’s time you stop concerning yourself with what is expected of you from people who show no appreciation, gratitude or understanding,” Akande said. He brushed Hanzo’s cheek with the back of his hand, letting his fingers trail the smooth skin there. Hanzo’s eyes fluttered shut again, looking so at peace that Akande could almost believe he had fallen asleep. “You deserve that, at least.” 

“What do you know of what I deserve?” Hanzo asked, although he did not sound as surly as he would have weeks ago. 

“I know you deserve happiness,” Akande said, with a confidence he did not quite feel. “I know you deserve to do as you wish, instead of being held back by the wishes of others.” Akande moved closer, watching Hanzo intently as the space between their lips steadily decreased. “You deserve me.”

“Awfully presumptuous of you, Mr Ogundimu,” Hanzo murmured. 

“Perhaps,” Akande admitted. “Am I wrong?” 

“You know me perhaps a little too well.” 

“Let me get to know you more.” 

Hanzo did not respond, trailing a finger down Akande’s chest. The warmth bled through Akande’s shirt. “I don’t want to hurt my brother.” 

“So don’t,” Akande said simply.

“I have a duty to my family,” Hanzo said again.

“You have a duty to yourself.” 

Hanzo leaned closer, his hand resting on Akande’s shoulder. 

“Okay.”

And so a deal was sealed with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really like the contrast of hanzo being bound by his duty to his family whereas akande growing up without that sense of loyalty to someone you're connected to by chance rather than choice, i think its super fun to explore


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little baby epilogue!! i'm thinking of making a spiderbyte part two after hanzo joins talon, because i have an idea for an 'undercover at a ball' scene that im desperate to write, but we'll see!!

“I feel sick,” Baptiste groaned for the fourth time, throwing his head back to hit the headrest.

“Stop looking at your phone,” Akande said. His eyes remained trained on the road as they drove, but he looked moments away from reaching back to take Baptiste’s phone from him. “You’ll only make yourself feel worse.” 

“Shimada, can you open the window?” 

“I already have.” 

“Can you open it fully?” 

“No.” 

Baptiste grumbled something under his breath. Sighing, Hanzo opened the window a little more, hoping that the concession would mean Baptiste wouldn’t puke on him. 

“There’s only a few more minutes until we reach the rest stop,” Akande told Baptiste. “Just stop looking at your phone until then and if you need to puke, you can puke there.” 

“We should have just taken the train,” Baptiste said. “The flight was bad enough, why would we willingly stuff ourselves into a car after that?” 

Hanzo bit back a sigh. The car was large, luxurious, and comfortable, but that did not seem to stop Baptiste from complaining. Akande had not mentioned that the man experienced motion sickness (a strange quality for someone climbing the ranks of a criminal organisation, Hanzo privately thought), and it appeared that Baptiste was too committed to talking to whoever he was texting to stop staring at him phone. 

“A few more minutes,” Akande repeated.

They drove in silence for a while, the radio playing an unfamiliar indie song as background noise. Hanzo stared out of the window and watched trees and cars zip by, feeling giddy at his escape. The Shimada family believed him to be dead, after a complex plan to make him appear to have been assassinated by an angry member of the Hiroshigo family, alongside Genji. The Shimada family had been furious, and embarked on a mission to destroy the family entirely, and Hanzo and Genji had been able to slip through the chaos unnoticed. 

As glad as Hanzo was that Genji was travelling the world and ‘finding himself’, he couldn’t help but miss his younger brother. He had asked if Genji would join Talon with him and he had adamantly refused, but promised to keep in contact. Hanzo had hoped, with the pressures of the elders’ expectations swept aside, he would have the chance to grow closer to his brother, but it seemed that would not be so. 

Still, his future now was not as bleak as it was a month ago. Hanzo would have the freedom to do as he wished as well as the satisfaction of his work as an assassin. All whilst working alongside Akande. It seemed too good to be true, and it was with no small amount of effort that Hanzo brushed away the paranoia that it would crash down at his feet as soon as he grew comfortable.

“We’re here,” Akande announced. 

“Thank God,” Baptiste muttered, not waiting for either of the men as he threw himself out of the car and ambled towards the collection of stores. Hanzo undid his seatbelt and made to exit the car, but Akande’s hand on his arm made him pause. 

“Are you okay?” Akande asked, his voice unbearably gentle. “You seem quiet.” 

Hanzo could not stop the smile forming on his face, touched by the man’s genuine concern. “I’m fine. Just thinking.” 

“What’s on your mind, love?” Akande asked.

“I… do not dread the future. That is something new to accustom myself to.” 

Akande brushed his thumb across Hanzo’s cheekbone fondly. “You deserve a happy future. Maybe one day we can buy a cottage in the countryside and grow strawberries to sell at the farmers’ market.” 

Hanzo snorted. “I was born and raised to be an assassin, I doubt the strawberries will hold my attention for long.” 

“That is probably not a future for people like us,” Akande agreed, chuckling at the thought. “Still, you know that I would do anything to make you happy, right?” 

“You have already done that,” Hanzo said. “I don’t think I have been this happy in a long while.” 

“You  _ deserve  _ it,” Akande said, tugging Hanzo’s mask down momentarily to steal a kiss. 

“I’m not sure I do,” Hanzo admitted. He tugged his mask up, partly to prevent being recognised as a man who was supposed to be dead, and partly to conceal the blush that Akande had ignited. “I want to believe it, but…” 

“You will understand one day,” Akande said fondly. “Come on, I’m craving something sweet from Starbucks.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you're curious about how the future of this would look:
> 
> genji hangs around for a while before ending up with the shambali and then joins overwatch, whereas hanzo goes with talon. eventuallu, they do clash and the conflict kinda mirrors their conflict from when they were younger, and hanzo feels a lot of irony in leaving the family to avoid killing genji just to end up fighting with him anyway
> 
> hanzo doesnt stay with talon forever and decides to work alone for a while. he originally liked talon because it wasn't as overbearing as the shimada family, but still allowed him to work. when akande is imprisoned, vialli makes the organisation too restrictive for hanzo's preference so he leaves. akande returns and has invested too much in talon, as well as genuinely believing in its aims so he stays. 
> 
> the two end up married and have to put in a lot of effort to make their timetables match. eventually, talon falls and akande joins hanzo in working alone as opposed to in a collective and they enjoy the rest of their days together uwu

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr and twitter is honeydewdyke!!


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